The Curse of Noirden
The mansion at night felt as though it had been trapped in a raging sea.
The sound of rain hammering against the windows continued without pause, and from time to time, lightning split the night sky. Every time the ensuing thunder shook the walls and ceiling, the whole structure groaned ominously.
"Sure has gotten wild out there~"
Salvia sat on a chair in the guest room, holding a warm cup of tea in both hands as she gazed out the window. Her sleepy voice was as calm as ever, but a faint tension flickered in her golden eyes.
"The clouds looked suspicious once we left the forest, but I didn’t think it’d come down this hard… Let’s hope nothing happens on our way back…"
Ale leaned back against the sofa and tapped his forehead lightly. The lingering cheer of the lively luncheon had long since been swallowed by the heavy presence of the storm.
—That was when it happened.
"Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!"
A young man’s scream echoed throughout the entire mansion.
Salvia placed her tea on the table and immediately stood. Ale kicked his chair back and headed straight for the door.
"That was the second floor, right?"
"Let’s hurry~!"
The two dashed down the hallway. Even with the storm roaring around them, servants were already gathering anxiously by the stairs.
The source of the scream was a room beside the large hall on the second floor. In front of the door sat a pale-faced maid, Jeanne, collapsed on the floor, trembling as she pointed inside.
"Young Master…!"
The moment her voice reached them, Ale stepped in front of the door without hesitation.
Inside was a luxurious bed. And…
Jack lay upon it, his face drained of all color.
His mouth hung open, staring into empty space. There were no visible wounds, and his clothing was untouched. Yet his face had turned bluish-purple, twisted in a mask of agony.
"… This is~…"
Salvia checked his pulse.
"Why is the young master…!?"
At that moment, the head butler, Hanneen, rushed in from behind them. His expression froze for only a second before he began barking orders.
"Go fetch Master at once! And bring a healer—quickly!"
The servants scattered in a panic.
"A healer won’t be necessary~"
"Why not!? We must treat him—"
"………… Even a Saint can’t bring back the dead… And~ if I can’t do anything, no one else will be able to either~"
"D-Dead…"
Soon after, Count Moriarty Noirden, Ratchet, and Bartley arrived. The count froze the instant he saw his son and lost his words.
"Jack…!?"
"Aah, Jack…! H-how could this…"
"B-Brother…!!?"
"Everyone, this is a crime scene so please don’t enter—ah, wait, stop…"
Ale tried to put up a yellow tape with No Entry written in this world’s language, but it was easily pushed aside.
Bartley clung to his brother’s lifeless body, collapsing in tears.
"Jack…! No way, please… wake up…!!"
Count Moriarty knelt beside them, shaking his son’s pale face.
But Jack’s eyes remained fixed on nothingness, never to return.
"Aah… why… whyyyy…"
"Young Master………"
Ratchet collapsed crying in front of the room. Even the voice of Hanneen, who stood beside her, trembled—he who was normally the epitome of composure could not hide his shock.
In a corner of the room, Bartley sobbed uncontrollably as maids tried to support him.
Among them, one young maid spoke with a deathly pale face.
"I knew it… this must be the Curse of Noirden…"
Her words became a spark, igniting instantly.
"The curse is real…"
"Then who’s next…"
"Are all of us… in danger…?"
The servants looked at one another, panic gripping their faces as the murmurs spread like wildfire.
The raging storm pounded the windows, as if to stir their fear even further.
"Silence!!"
Hanneen’s voice boomed, loud enough to drown out even the storm.
At the severity in his tone, the maids shrank back at once.
"Do not speak of curses so carelessly!!!"
The reprimand froze the room.
But the fear wasn’t gone. The shadows in their eyes remained deep, and doubt and terror were beginning to take shape.
Amid the tension, Ale quietly looked down at Jack’s body.
There were several oddities about his death. Not a single wound on his chest, no signs of struggle. It resembled suffocation, yet there were no strangulation marks.
Only his face was twisted in terror and shock.
Magic, or something akin to it. For example…
(―A curse.)
He furrowed his brows and glanced at Salvia.
The golden-eyed Saintess gazed at the body for a moment before speaking gently.
"…… Everyone, please don’t worry~ As long as I’m here, I promise there will not be any more victims~"
Her calm voice slightly eased the atmosphere that had almost been consumed by fear.
Salvia continued.
"We originally came here~ for the sake of the children at the orphanage~… but it seems we’ll be taking on another role as well~"
Ale nodded faintly.
If this was left alone, fear would lead to suspicion, and tragedy would strike even without any curse. A panicked group always ended the same way.
"Count Moriarty."
Ale faced the count.
"Please compose yourself. Right now, restoring order is our top priority."
"… I-I know. But… my son…"
The count’s voice trembled.
Seeing him like that made Ale’s chest ache. The man was showing the bare face of a grieving father.
… He’s not going to be able to handle this.
"Chief Butler Hanneen."
Ale addressed him next.
"Tonight, let’s gather everyone in the great hall so they can keep an eye on one another. If you let them scatter, there may be more victims. Also… I’d like to hear about this Curse of Noirden."
Hanneen nodded deeply.
"… As you wish."
And so, even as the ominous shadow known as the Curse of Noirden spread through the mansion, everyone was gathered in the great hall for safety.
Yet all present felt the same thing.
This was no simple murder.
Something was definitely moving within the storm-sealed mansion—something unseen.
What do you think about this chapter?
